Runes and Ruins
by exxilis
Summary: It's common knowledge that Downworlders and Shadowhunters have never gotten along. But for the first time since the Uprising, that tense bond between the two species has spiraled out of control, threatening their safety, hinting at the dangers of war. The stress of the Clave hangs over all of the habitants of the Los Angeles institute, forcing them to prepare for the unimaginable.
1. City of Angels

It was a normal day.

The kitchen was bustling with cheery whistles and boiling water, the hallways silent and peaceful.

Sun rays filtered beautifully through the windows of the ancient looking building, highlighting the dust that was supposed to have been taken care of last week.

The building itself seemed to be sleeping, as if it was only awake when its inhabitants were.

Of course, that would be entirely inaccurate. The Institute of Los Angeles was a constant place, the protections placed around it never ceasing, never failing.

That fact alone was enough to keep the interior of the place calm, quiet. Peaceful and at ease.

Of course it couldn't last.

"_Lee Stonewall, I am going to have you skinned, and then I__'__m going to wear that same fucking skin for Halloween. I__'__m going as the gayest shadowhunter since Alec Lightwood!__"_

The silence had been erupted in a matter of seconds, and expertly placed, efficiently paced footsteps were echoing down the large hallways. He was fast. But I was too.

"_You mean like that alien from Men in Black?__"_

The bastard wasn't just playing with fire, he'd stuck both his fucking hands in the flames, and he knew it. He'd gone so far as to use the library as a cover, weaving dangerously between the many shelves. Rough housing in the library would get us helping Liv in the kitchens for a month.

However, I knew the library far better than he did, and I'd soon thrown myself at him, sending both of us into the nearest bookcase.

Paper scratched at my face as books fell, some of them as old as the institute itself. Hardcovers hit my shoulders, and a small part of me wondered if this should be a new form of training. Books, used to condition your muscles towards harder hits.

Nevertheless, my hands found his shoulders, almost as thin as my own, pressing him hard against the floor. Much to my annoyance, my breathing was loud and heavy. Despite healthy habits and immense physical training, the life of a shadowhunter just couldn't cure weak lungs. For this reason paired with my knack for running into both things and people, stealth would never be something I would master.

"Come on," I managed, trying to steady myself. "Where'd you put it."

If he could have, he would have raised his hands in defense of himself, but instead, his hazel eyes said it all without a word.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He looked amused by the situation, not output by it at all. As if I'd woken him up and thrown him on the ground for nothing.

"_Lee!__"_ I wanted to slap him. "I'm supposed to have that sensor fixed by tonight!"

"Is it my fault you procrastinated?" He fired back.

With a groan and what I hoped was a look of annoyance, I pushed myself to my feet, taking a few steps away from him.

He got up quickly too, graceful and light on his feet, working to put the bookshelf back in its place before we could be caught in the scene of the crime.

With an exasperated sigh of defeat, I started picking up books as well, deciding that if I got the both of us punished, he'd never tell me where he hid the damned thing.

Had I overreacted? Chasing him down like a hunted animal over something so small as a demon sensor? Definitely. But things like this were happening a lot, and not just by my hand. Tensions had been high around the Institute lately, and if I had to guess, Institutes around the world. Things had really started to stir with the Downworlders, for the first time in centuries they were creating a new threat for us. It had started with one vampire clan who refused to cooperate with the newly formed treaties from the Clave, and their defiance spread, not just through the Vampires, but Werewolves and Warlocks as well. Rumor had it that at the moment, a group of Warlocks down in New Mexico were working through a demon trade, 'stocking up' as our intel had put it. It seems that the Downworlders general distaste for shadowhunters had developed into a passionate hatred, which was now building to a threat.

So it's not as if I really gave a damn about that sensor, and it's not like Ryder had really gotten into a full fledged fist fight with Ivy last week over a fucking broken stele. We were taking any chance we could to let out the stress, and more often than not it was directed at one another.

"What the fuck did you two do?"

Sure as shit, there was Ivy Hawkwright in the doorway, her arms crossed, looking more irritated than angry. Her short blonde hair was tussled from sleep, out of training clothes. She looked almost mundane, if not for the runes that were placed along her arms, her collarbones, the back of her neck.

"Lux tried to kill me," Lee grumbled.

"That's happened before, and yet you've never disrespected the library," Ivy's voice was dull.

"He took the sensor I busted last week. Penfair needs it by tonight."

She sighed, and stepped in to help us. Her smile was faded, worn and tired. It'd been a long couple of weeks, and the damage showed, on all of us I'm sure. Her blue eyes were darkened, skin paler than it should have been. If she'd had a mundane job, they would have ordered her a vacation, or to take a few sick days. But we didn't exactly get breaks.

"Lee, go get that damn sensor, wherever you put it. Fix it. I know she was supposed to do it, but you owe her that much. We'll clean up here."

Where there would have normally been a sarcastic comment, a witty remark, a smart ass rebuttal, he simply shrugged, doing as he was told.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Don't mention it. You're bleeding by the way," she motioned towards her own cheek, and sure enough, when I lifted my hand, it came back wet.

"Books bite."

"Give me your arm."

I did just as Lee had, doing as I was told. "You got a new stele, then?"

She nodded, and the tracing of the rune felt as normal as any routine activity. It had been years since they caused me any pain.

"This one's a hell of a lot more effective. Since I cracked the old one, never quite worked right. At this point I'm grateful Ryder snapped the thing."

I knew that was a lie, and she did too. But we'd both been doing a lot of it lately. It had to stop at some point. While our ceremony had been postponed due to a few messy matters with the Clave, it was still scheduled to happen.

Parabatai.

The word had always frightened me. From the very first time seeing Lee's faded and grey rune, the one that caused him pain to even talk about, I had sworn myself away from even considering it. And then Abbey had been transferred here, the last of five of us to be switched to the previously unoccupied institute. Much like a cliche mundane love story, she had changed absolutely everything. And I supposed, thinking about it now, it was a love story of sorts. In each other we'd found the sister neither of us had had, a new bond in a new life.

The Los Angeles institute had been abandoned six months ago, in a state of emergency. It had taken the Clave an estimated three weeks to ward off the Vampire clan which had surrounded the place, and while they couldn't enter the building itself, they were an immediate danger to any shadowhunter who tried to leave it on a daily basis.

So the small Vampire clan had been taken care of, and soon they were looking for willing transfers. Even if the place was dangerous, the Clave couldn't afford to have an unused Institute on the records. So they found us. Five shadowhunters in training who surpassed our marks, exceeded in our studies, and went above and beyond in our physical abilities. We were chosen because we were the most likely to stay alive in an Institute which was no longer protected by its holy grace. We were a political move, something to try and convince everybody else that there was still balance.

I was the first. Coming directly from Idris, it was decided that I and Liv, the forty-something woman who had taken me on in her household when my parents had died, would take up residence here. We were the testers, to see if sudden shadowhunter presence would attract a new force. We didn't. No monsters, nothing went bump in the night. And so the gates were oiled, the glamour repaired. The city of angels had just regained their angel status.

Next came Lee Stonewall, from an Institute in northern Texas. He had killed more demons than he could keep count of, a surprising factor of brute force, unexpected from his smaller size. Like the security guard of a new and unpopular downtown club.

Then there was Maeve Wayland, already famous by her family name. That's right, folks. Descendant of Michael Wayland himself, known for his involvement in Valentines Uprising. The fiery brunette with a love of mundane cigarettes and reality TV. She was the quietest out of all of us, but when she did open her mouth, nothing but good things came out of it. She was sweet, kind, compassionate. And one hell of a hunter. Coming from Atlanta, she had customized training, different than what a shadowhunter in Idris would learn. The methods were far more modern, comparing the animal hunting sport of the mundane world with shadowhunter techniques, improving them, making them blend more easily in the outside world.

Oliver Starkpine was a genuine London import, famous for his stealth, for his manipulative ability. Rather than use force like Lee did, he loved more than anything to talk his way out of his problems, confusing potential enemies and making a run for it. Ironically enough, he rather detested violence. He was originally supposed to be the last transfer.

And then came Ivy Hawkwright. Her parents had volunteered her to come here, eager to uphold their powerful political status. She was like a district one Career in that book series Maeve had been so fond of, something to do with hunger and sport. Can't remember. Anyways, she was as pure blooded as a shadowhunter could come, descending from a long line of powerful fighters, important people and names. I wouldn't be surprised if she held a seat on the Clave some day. It had only taken a few weeks of training with her to understand why they'd sent her here. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought she'd come straight from Idris.

And she was soon to complete that age old ritual with me, become my parabatai. Terrifying, isn't it?

The five of us were now consistently training, being sent out almost daily, whether it be killing demons or questioning any lone downworlders we could find.

Shadowhunters were busier than we'd been in years, and as I continued to quietly organize the scattered books with my soon to be warrior-partner for life, I couldn't help but feel that it was simply because we were preparing for something we couldn't even put a name to.

The Clave had been tense, because they were so busy.

The Clave kept themselves busy, because that's what they did when they were scared.

And what scares the Clave, should scare all of us.


	2. Home

"Lux."

The knock on my door had my eyes open in a flash, hand clenching around the pen I'd fallen asleep with. If anything it could be a weapon, right?

Pushing notebooks and stray papers off myself, I stood to answer the door, throwing the pen back on the bed- one that had never really felt like mine to begin with.

There in the darkened hallway stood Lee, with his cocky grin and easy manner.

"Here," he handed me the pocket-sized sensor, looking considerably better than the last time I'd seen it. "I'd go find Penfair now if you don't want him looking for you in the morning. I'd hate for your breakfast to be ruined by the sight of him."

"Took you long enough," I scoffed.

"If I'm not wrong, you're the one who fucked it up so bad in the first place. Why couldn't you just get a new one?"

"Because the Head of this fine Institute," I spoke through a tight grin. "Wants to know that it's occupants are able to handle themselves. That includes damaged or otherwise unusable equipment. If that's a concept you can grasp."

"All you Idris shadowhunters have some kind of stick up your asses, you know that?" He let out a sigh, leaning against the doorframe. "I prescribe a drink."

"Alcohol doesn't do anything for me."

"You're just so stiff, all the time. Since the day I met you."

He paused for a moment, and the silence seemed to stretch on longer than it should have.

"You know, I'm sure," the corners of his lips twitched up into a smirk. "There's a specific set of activities I could provide to help you... Relax."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead letting out a sharp breath of annoyance. "Stonewall, have you already been turned down by Hawkwright and Wayland for mindless sex, or are you going in alphabetical order?"

His smirked morphed into a laugh, and despite how tired he seemed to be, it lit up his every feature. His eyes, a much more vibrant green than my own, seemed to laugh as he did.

"Im kidding, Ashwell."

"You need to learn to pick up on my sarcasm," I closed the door behind me, pushing him forward, starting my walk down the hallway.

"Maybe I could, if I knew you had a sense of humor."

I waved off his remark, not turning back to look at him.

"Goodnight, Lee."

I heard the smile in his smirk. "If you find yourself lonesome in the middle of the night, you know where to find me."

This earned him a clear view of my middle finger, and the last I heard of him was that laugh again, before he turned the corner farther down, whether to return to his room or make his way to somebody else's, I didn't know, nor did I care.

I made my way through the large place with much less ease than I should have. It was true what Lee had said. Growing up in the home of all Shadowhunters gave me a certain sense of pride, something I couldn't quite shake. It also left me somewhat decapitated when it came to different environments. I had spent sixteen years of my life in the same place, and to suddenly be thrown here on the basis of 'important matters' had thrown me on a bender. While there was a training place very similar to this back home, this one felt strange, foreign.

Every Shadowhunter knows they're in Idris. They can feel it, the sense of home calling to their very blood. It is believed that it is where we are strongest, where we are most efficient. You only know you're in Los Angeles when you feel the heat on your skin, the pollution in the sky where there should be stars. While I'd certainly felt the pull of the Institute, the feel of it was hollow and empty in comparison to Idris.

It was difficult to relax in a place I just wasn't able to call home. Not just yet.

And yet, I knew not to step on the third step from the bottom at night because it was loud enough to wake up Maeve, whose room was a mere three feet away. I knew to check the kitchens before I went to bed, because more often then not, Liv had either forgotten to turn the lights off, or fallen asleep at the table herself. My adjustment to this place was slow, sure, but in progress.

Soon enough, I was knocking on the heavy wooden doors, the ones that were always closed, always keeping things quiet.

There was no answer, but the lack of one gave me the clear to enter.

I kept my head down, simply placing the censor on a desk that would be worth thousands in the mundane market.

"Should be back to basic functioning," my voice was clipped, proper. A report. "And Ivy's stele has been replaced."

"Very well."

I heard the shift of papers that told me he was done listening, and hesitantly looked up at the Head of our Institute.

Alerick Penfair looked older than he was, at the still young age of thirty four, he'd taken on this place as more of a challenge, seeing it as a conquest rather than a deed of good doing. His eyes had been blue once I'm sure, but they now held more of a grey tint to them, constantly clouded with the haze of stress, lack of sleep.

He looked up at me now, but even as he did his pen still moved.

"That will be all," he clarified.

Part of me wanted to remain in place, to close the door behind me and demand answers.

_What's being done? Are we making proper advancements? Are we safe? _Or better yet, _What the fuck is actually going on in the Clave?_

"Thank you, Alerick."

Of course I would do none of those things, and instead of closing the door behind me in the office, I did it on my way out, careful not to make it too loud, aware now that most, if not everybody would be sleeping just as I had been.

Just as routine went, I made my way down to the kitchens, flipping the light switches down, making sure the ovens were off. I ran a hand through my hair a few times, a habit of untangling the curls from time to time.

Heading up the stairs one last time, I made a split decision to make one last stop.

Her door wasn't closed all the way, which was odd for any of us.

I shook my head with a small smile, pushing the door open with my foot.

It seemed Ivy had fallen asleep the same way I had, surrounded with papers and work, language training we were supposed to have completed by the coming saturday.

I worked quietly, taking notebooks and old text and putting them in their proper places, knowing she couldn't care less where I put anything. I noticed the bare inside of her forearm, where the _parabatai_ mark would soon reside, and for the first time, the thought didn't scare me.

I knew I would head back to the library in a half hour or so, unable to sleep, and I knew I would turn over the process of the ceremony over and over again before turning back to my studies until exhaustion would take over. But for now, I quietly observed my blonde companion, relieved that she had been able to find good sleep, even if it was provoked by too much work.

Sleep was sleep, and we all were going to need it.


End file.
